


Clear Country Air

by xsamerulesapply



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 05:04:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4167018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xsamerulesapply/pseuds/xsamerulesapply
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Pietro quickly grows tired of fighting in the big city, so Clint decides to bring him home to the farmhouse as his farmhand. Even though it wasn't their intention, they can't help that clear country air can be an aphrodisiac.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clear Country Air

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my very first fic in eight years. Yikes. I have been so inspired by Hawksilver that I have decided to try writing again. Here goes nothing.
> 
> I am, clearly, ignoring dead!Pietro. There is likely to be smut in the future. Anddd if you have any comments, criticisms, or positive feedback, please leave kudos, comments, or message me on [Tumblr.](http://www.xsamerulesapply.tumblr.com)

_There has to be an easier way to do this,_ Pietro thought, slowly picking up the remnants of a sign declaring that “Hannah’s Hoagies” has hoagies for $4.79 on Tuesdays, which had fallen from a building damaged by the Avengers’ most recent skirmish. The “easy” way would be for the team to make less of a mess, but even newbie Pietro knew that that was extremely unlikely to happen. In the past, Stark would simply pay for all the damages and hire people to clean up the city post-battle. Steve, however, had recently decided that the group should be working to rebuild their image with the public post-Ultron, and part of his master plan involved the team cleaning up their own mess.

The problem with this was that these battles were exhausting to all members of the team, Pietro in particular. He and Wanda, being new to the team, were simply not used to the physical exertion that these battles put on them, let alone the emotional stress.  Despite his powers, the constant running was still exhausting, and he would find himself in the middle of battle having to stop to gasp for air and to clutch at the inevitable cramp in his side. He couldn’t let himself be slowed down, however, lest he risk putting himself or another member of the team in danger. This typically resulted in him needing a longer recovery time than the rest of the team, which was fucking embarrassing.

“Is anyone in the vicinity of Grove and 7th that can help me with something?” Clint’s voice asked over the team’s communication devices. “I’m having a bit of trouble.”

Pietro looked around for an indication of his own location and saw that he was at Houston and 7th, which he figured could only be a few blocks away from Clint. “I can be there in a few minutes, Hawkeye. Are you able to wait? I do not want to run too fast.” He knew he sounded as though he was in a bit of pain, which he was to be fair, but he also expected Clint would be more patient if he felt guilty.

“Fine, but don’t dawdle,” Clint replied. “This is really important.”

Pietro sighed and threw the ruined hoagie sign in a nearby trashcan. He scanned the area to evaluate what was left to be done. He had gotten the majority of this area picked up as most of the battle had avoided the area. There was some broken glass from the windows of the bank next door to the hoagie shop, but a street sweeper would likely be able to get that mess. Business was beginning to resume as usual on the street; apparently nothing could slow down New York for long. A tall, wealthy-looking man in a navy blue suit and tie walked by Pietro, eyeing his rubble-filled white hair and torn Under Armor shirt with disapproval. Pietro glared at him and thought briefly of calling him out, but decided not to since he had promised Clint that he would not “dawdle.”

He realized shortly after this that he was not sure which direction on 7th he should head to get to Clint’s location. He tried to ask several people for assistance, but nearly everyone he tried to ask took one look at him and rushed away. The ones that did not ignore him practically snarled at him, irritated that a “superhero” would ask them for help. Pietro sighed in frustration. He had just spent the last several hours risking his life for these people, and they could not be bothered to treat him like a human being. He decided to just head north and hope that it would take him in the right direction.

He ran a little faster than he wanted to since he had kept Clint waiting for so long. He accidentally-not-so-accidentally knocked over one or two people on his way in bitterness; he knew that he should not take his frustration out on them, but he was feeling a lot of resentment toward New York.

After running for four blocks, he saw the sign for Grove Street and stopped. He looked around for Clint. There was no damage that he could see in this area, but he also could not see Clint either. “Hawkeye,” Pietro said over their intercom. “I am here, where are you? What do you need help with?”

Suddenly, Clint appeared next to him and pulled the earpiece out of Pietro’s ear, then dragged him into a nearby building. Pietro instantly tensed and prepared for a fight. “What the hell are you doing?” he said angrily, shaking Clint off of him.

“Damn, chill out,” Clint replied, throwing his hands in the air in surrender. “I just didn’t want the group to hear what we’re doing.”

“What are you –“ Pietro began, but then took a second to look around the building. It was a small shop, mostly empty save for two or three people and the employees. “Clint, I swear… Why did you call me to an ice cream shop?”

“I couldn’t decide what flavor I wanted,” Clint shrugged. “It’s been a long day. I deserve it. I’ll treat you to something, too.” Clint nudged Pietro playfully. “You need a break anyway.”

Pietro was only slightly irritated with Clint. It was hard for him to get genuinely angry at him, since he respected the older man so much. He had really been there for Pietro and Wanda throughout their entire transition into the Avengers, more so than the rest of the team. This was not at the fault of the other members; Clint just had an ability to take the twins under his metaphorical wing in a way that the others just couldn’t.

He signed in resignation and looked at the board. The ice creams had crazy names, like the “American Glob” and “Bea Arthur.” He examined the menu closely, and said “You like key lime? You should get the Mermaid.” He felt ridiculous saying that, but whatever.

“Perfect, that’s what I was thinking,” Clint responded, approached the counter, and placed his order. When the server asked if she could get him anything else, he gestured toward Pietro. “Whatever you want, babe,” he said, with a wink.

Pietro crossed his arms and leaned into his hips. “Clint.”

“Oh, sorry,” Clint said, and turned back to the server. “He isn’t comfortable saying some of these names. You know, foreigners.” He shrugged as Pietro punched him square in the shoulder. “Ouch. Well, I guess he’ll have the Salty Pimp.”

The server looked confused over the interaction, but simply created their treats and rung them up without further incident.

Clint and Pietro grabbed their ice cream and grabbed a seat at a high table by the window facing 7th. Pietro felt his body decompress as he was finally able to sit down after running and fighting and cleaning all day. He took a bite of his ice cream, and was surprised at just how much he enjoyed the chocolatey salty-sweet mix. “Good choice, old man,” Pietro said, licking the residual ice cream off of his lip.

“You too,” Clint replied as he dug into his cup of ice cream. “Sorry to pull you out of the field, but I figured that if I was taking a break that I shouldn’t be the only one.”

“It is alright,” Pietro said as he stretched. “I needed a break. You would not believe how I was being treated by the New Yorkers where I was.” He practically spat “New Yorkers” as if it were poison, tasting bitter on his tongue. “I could not get a single one of them to talk to me long enough to give me directions of how to get here, and those were the ones that would even stop. The rest just glared at me like I was some wretch.”

“Welcome to New York,” Clint chuckled. “It’s not just us. New Yorkers are like that a lot of the time. That’s part of the reason I moved out into the country.”

“I heard Stark talking about that,” Pietro said. “Did you really keep your home and family a secret from the team? How did you do that? I feel as though Wanda and I are unable to keep any secrets with all of you.”

Clint shrugged. “I needed to protect my family. You do whatever you need to do to protect the people you love.”

Pietro nodded in understanding. After all, what would he not do for Wanda? To keep her safe?

“I wish that I had a place to go to get out of this city,” Pietro sighed bitterly. “I hate it here. It is too busy. Wanda and I went from nearly complete isolation to being thrown in to one of the most largely populated city in the world. It is too much.” He took another bite of his ice cream, with more of a snap than was necessary.

They sat for a moment, eating their ice cream in silence, the only sounds being the occasional scraping of chairs of the other customers against the black-tiled floor and the sound of Pietro slurping his ice cream. Suddenly, Clint set his ice cream down and crossed his arms. He leaned his chair back slowly, and eyed Pietro up for a moment. “What?” Pietro asked tentatively. “Is there something wrong with me?”

“No, no,” Clint responded quickly. “I was just thinking. How would you feel about coming out to my farm with me?”

“What?” Pietro said incredulously. “Why?”

“You’re right. You need a break. You have been working your ass off. Besides, I know Wanda and Vision are planning a summer trip to Alaska to get some quiet time of their own, and you shouldn’t be alone in the Tower.”

“I would not be alone,” Pietro protested. “Stark and Steve will be there.”

Clint snorted. “Okay, are you _sure_ that you want to be in the tower with just the two of them?”

Pietro contemplated and realized Clint was right; those two were pretty unbearable when the entire upstate New York facility was full of the team and their employees. When it would be just the two of them and Pietro in the much-smaller tower? It was inevitable that he would walk in on them fucking in the kitchen one morning. He did not want to take that risk.

“I do not want to be a burden on you and your family,” Pietro argued. “Your wife has enough to care for, with the three kids and her husband who acts like a kid.”

Clint waved him off. “I’m going to ignore that last comment. And you wouldn’t be a burden at all.” He pondered for a moment. “If it would make you feel better, you can be my personal farmhand.”

“What is a farmhand?” Pietro asked, his eyebrow raised. He had a fairly good grasp of English, but there were occasional words that popped up that they had never had use for in Sokovia, so he did not know them.

“It just means that you would help me with some of the physical labor. Like loading up hay, taking care of the horses, that kind of thing.” He gestured at Pietro’s muscular frame. “I could definitely use someone with your build.”

Pietro paused, weighing his options. Clint was right. He had been working really hard since he and Wanda had moved to New York, and he despised the city and all of its inhabitants. He had heard nothing but positive things about Clint’s wife (Laura, he thinks) and their kids from the other Avengers, so it couldn’t be unbearable to stay with them.

“Well,” Pietro said, ruffling his hair. “If you are really offering, then… Sure. I would love to.”

“Awesome,” Clint said with a grin, clapping his hand on Pietro’s shoulder. “Glad to have you aboard. We leave tomorrow.”


End file.
